


Baby's First Interview

by bobafiend



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Batdad, Batfamily, Batfamily Shenanigans, Chaos, Duke learning how to be a batkid, Gen, Humor, Jason is a little shit, absolute chaos, batbros, batfam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2020-06-30 12:28:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19853197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bobafiend/pseuds/bobafiend
Summary: In an attempt to prep Duke for his first interview as a member of the Wayne family, the other batbros share the stories of their media debuts. While entertaining, the stories don't do a lot to soothe his nerves...





	Baby's First Interview

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was heavily inspired by @/i-think-2-much's tumblr posts about things the batfamily have done on national TV, so thank you for the idea!!!

“Master Duke, I see you’ve adjusted to life in the Batcave?” Alfred said pleasantly as he approached the teen in question in the kitchen.

“Oh hey Alfred, I think adjusted might be a bit of an overstatement. I’m getting there though.”

“Oh good. It’s nearly time you start adjusting to life as a Wayne, and not just a Bat.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

-

Duke wished he hadn’t asked. Two hours later he found himself sitting on one of the luxurious couches in the living room. Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian, Cass, Bruce, and Alfred lounged around the room as well. Their stances were relaxed, but they spoke in serious tones.

They were drilling Duke on… interview etiquette.

“We have to appear in public enough for the tabloids to be sated. If we don’t throw them a bone every once and awhile, they’ll come digging. And I’m sure you realize we’ve got a couple secrets underground.” Bruce had explained to him a moment ago.

Duke thought it was crazy enough that he was a vigilante now, it was unbelievable that he was going to be a celebrity too. He voiced this to the others, but he was only met by laughs.

“I wouldn’t worry about it. I was a celebrity when I first got adopted. Jason got a little publicity, but everything after that went so quickly. Bruce has too many kids for the media to keep up with, I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“Excuse me, but might I suggest the young masters share their own first interview experiences so as to reassure Master Duke that it can’t get much worse?” Alfred maintained a flat voice and expressionless face for the roast.

“Fine…” Dick trailed off, “ keep in mind I was only nine and there was only one of me…”

-

Billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne sat with one leg crossed over the other on the cheap square couch in a major media studio. Actually, he was quite uncomfortable. He made a mental note to buy them a nicer couch after this interview. If they were decent.

None of Bruce’s appearance was out of the ordinary, from his $4,000 suit to his nonchalant reclining on the couch, however uncomfortable.

What was out of the ordinary was the tiny ball of energy next to him.

The tabloids had been on fire for the month following Dick’s adoption, and Bruce finally decided that an outright interview with the kid might settle the papers down for a moment. He was sick of reading theories about an illegitimate heir and whatnot. He wasn’t going to throw the kid to the wolves on his own though, so the two sat in blue suits side by side on the god awful couch.

Dick- in a light blue suit, white button up, and navy bowtie- sat straight up taking every detail of the studio in with childlike wonder in his eyes. The interviewer loved him before she even started on the questions.

“Good Evening Gotham! Welcome to the city’s favorite nightly talk show. I’m your host Eliza, and tonight we have two incredibly special guests! Gotham’s very own Bruce Wayne, and his newly adopted son in his media debut!”

Dick’s leg started bouncing in anticipation, and he couldn’t help but start smiling. He’d loved being a performer his whole life so far, and this wasn't any different. Dick was almost more in his element than Bruce had ever seen him.

“Let’s start of with your name, young man! Care to share?”

“I’m Dick! Dick Grayson! I’m nine years old and I grew up in the circus.” He smiled, and the reporter practically cooed. Bruce was impressed with how comfortable the kid seemed.

“The circus? Wow! That’s really special. What did you do in the circus, Dick?” Bruce was also impressed with Eliza. She didn’t seem like she’d be pushing for sensitive details about Dick’s past. He always thought it was a low blow when people talked information out of children.

“I was an acrobat. Want to see me do tricks?”

Bruce was no longer impressed with his composure. They were not a minute in to the show, and the reporter’s encouraging nod already had Dick shedding his jacket and climbing onto the (thin) back of the couch to use as some kind of balance beam.

He cartwheeled, flipped, and back handspringed back and forth across the couch for a few seconds before flipping back into his seat with a flourish and a toothy smile.

Eliza applauded. “That was amazing, Dick! I have plenty more questions for you in just a minute, but I’m going to interview Bruce here about his new philanthropy project really quick, okay?” After receiving Dick’s sincere nod of approval, she did just that.

Dick got a little bored though.

Or a lot bored.

He really tried to sit still and pay attention, but he absolutely could not handle sitting still this long as Bruce rambled on in a fake dumb voice about a charity initiative.

Somehow, entirely on accident of course, Dick ended up upside down with his feet tossed over the back of the couch.

“Dick? Are you alright?” Eliza inquired.

“I’m fine, thank you! The world’s just more fun upside down.”

“Is it now?” She chuckled good heartedly, “Can you do a handstand?”

“Can I ever!” Dick responded, righting himself on the couch. This child would give Bruce more gray hairs than Alfred before he turned eleven.

“Do you want to see how many rapidfire questions you can answer while doing a handstand? I’m sure everyone would love to learn some fun little facts about you!”

“YES.” Dick got into handstand position.

“What’s your favorite color?”

“Bright blue.”

“Cats or Dogs?”

“Birds.”

“Favorite superhero?”

“Superman!” Ouch. That one hurt.

“Favorite movie?”

“Disney!”

“That isn’t a movie,”

“Sure it is.”

Conversation and questioning went on like this for at least a minute before Dick’s face grew red and he lowered himself to the ground again.

As the interview concluded, Dick gave Eliza a quick hug before skipping off set holding Bruce hand. Bruce had to dash back on a moment later to grab Dick’s forgotten suit jacket. The kid had more or less stolen the hearts of every Gotham citizen.

-

“That’s…” Duke thought for a moment, “kind of adorable.” Bruce had gotten Dick the youngest, and stories like this were the closest thing Duke would ever hear to baby stories about any of them.

Duke looked over at his adopted father. He was smiling contently at the sweet memory.

“Thanks man, I’m a little bit better on camera than Jay Jay here.” Dick ruffled the second-oldest’s hair, much to Jason’s chagrin.

“Okay, my first interview was only bad because I wanted it to be. I couldn’t be Gotham’s brain child or heartthrob if you already stole both those titles before puberty. Tough streets out here, gotta make a name for yourself!” Jason punched Dick in the arm ‘playfully.’ It was a little harder than strictly necessary.

-

Bruce was so tired. He was so so so tired. He’d was sitting on another damn awful couch in another major media studio, this time with a son on either side of him.

Which was fine.

Except.

One son had been pretending he didn’t speak English for ten minutes straight so far.

Dick was on his other side in a charcoal suit and ultramarine button up with just one too many buttons undone. An uncountable number of interviews had flown by since his first one and the man, now 18, was still charming the reporter.

His name was Marc, and he seemed a little nervous to be interviewing such big names. Especially since one hadn’t been introduced to the world yet, and was being particularly difficult. Dick was trying to throw in funny one-liners and flirtatious comments to balance out the awkwardness that Jason was bringing to the table, but it simply wasn’t enough.

Eventually, Bruce had enough. “Jason! Give the poor reporter a break!” The journalist was confused for a moment before the young man in the tight pants and red silk shirt heaved a dramatic sigh and began speaking in English for the first time the entire interview.

Bruce then decided it maybe would have been better for him to have stayed quiet the whole time because once he started talking, every phrase out of his mouth was either an embarrassing anecdote starring Bruce, an unsubtle pass at the camerawoman, or some sort of euphemism surrounding his older adopted brother’s name.

Sometimes an impressive combination of all the above.

Later that night, Bruce went back on that decision after he read a translation of Jason’s broken Spanish at the beginning to find it was just more of the same.

-

“Well that was intentional though, and people still liked you because you were so different from Dick, right? So what could go wrong with my first interview?”

“Duke, you haven’t let Timmers tell his tale yet.” Jason smirked from where he was incorrectly sitting in an armchair.

Tim buried his face in his hands.

-

Tim hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep the night before his first interview.

Or the night before that as a matter of fact. Or the night before… well, you get the picture.

Tim was sporting a classic black suit with a thin maroon tie for the interview, and Bruce wore a coordinating outfit. Dick was meeting them there, but since Jason was technically dead he wasn’t able to join them. The look he’d given before the other three had left still made him nervous though… best not read in to it. Tim was too exhausted to think hard about anything.

He’d chugged close to an entire pot of coffee this morning and was promised more on-site.

This interview was his media debut, and Bruce was going to announce him officially as the heir to Wayne Enterprises. It was raining a bit this morning, but it still seemed like a beautiful day to Tim.

They arrived at the studio and were eventually showed where the interview would be broadcasted from. A cute, red headed reporter named Allison motioned towards the couch for them to sit down.

Bruce was anticipating the discomfort, but Tim made an unpleasant face at Bruce upon sitting down. The man gave his newest son a sympathetic look before plastering on a smile and turning to the reporter.

She began the newsreel before Dick arrived, the others assumed he wasn’t showing up.

“I’m joined today by Mr. Bruce Wayne and his third adopted son, Mr. Tim Drake!” The two gentlemen waved politely at the camera for the audiences at home.

“Thank you for having us!” Tim figured first impressions were important.

“Of course! Thank you both for being here! I was expecting your oldest to be joining us too, Bruce. Did something come up?” Allison’s tone was nonchalant, but Bruce could tell she was sniffing for gossip about Dick. Bruce wasn’t sure about this reporter, he didn’t like how she was already calling him by his first name. 

Or the way she kept eyeing him up.

He really didn’t want to sleep with this woman.

“He’s probably with his girlfriend.” Tim laughed casually.

“Girlfriend?” Allison leaned forward in her seat. The media was not aware that Gotham’s sweetheart was a taken man.

“Actually, Tim. I got held up at work. Didn’t even have time to change so sorry about all this. And for anyone who was wondering, I don’t have a girlfriend. I guess you and me haven’t caught up in awhile, eh Tim?” Dick had arrived.

Tim turned around to see what Dick had meant by “all this.”

He had obviously come straight from work because he was walking into the studio in his police uniform, the white shirt damp from the rain, and his hair pushed back and dripping a bit. He must have taken his bike here then.

Tim turned his attention back to the reporter only to find that she was focused entirely on Dick. Her mouth was practically watering at the sight of him. She tossed a red curl behind her shoulder and cleared her throat softly.

That’s when everything went to hell.

A ghoulish shriek played through the room’s intercom system. Allison frantically whipped her head around to face the tech and soundboard team. They looked just as lost.

From one corner came the sound of shattering glass followed by another howl, but there was nothing on the other side of that wall and the corner was empty.

The four people on set had risen from their seats and were looking around. Allison terrified, Tim and Bruce thoughtfully, and Dick like he dealt with this kind of thing for a living. Which, Tim remembered, technically he did.

A dark chuckle came from the speakers that freaked out the media crew a lot, but for some reason made the Waynes let out a sigh of relief and move back towards the couch the three of them hardly fit on.

“Why are you sitting down? We may need to evacuate!”

“It’s just Jason.” Tim sighed. He should have known the middle child would pull something like this.

He remembered the smirk on the other boy’s face when they’d left the house that morning.

He hadn’t remembered that Jason was technically dead.

“Jason? Your late older brother?” The reporter looked more than startled at that revelation.

The three men on the couch immediately began to backpedal.

“It’s a different Jason!” Bruce supplied reasonably. It would have been perfect if the other two hadn’t spoken at the exact same time.

“He haunts us!” Tim said cheerfully.

“Who’s Jason?” Dick tried.

Dick and Tim looked at each other over Bruce’s head which was now in his hands.

“Can this be over?” The tired father asked.

They cut the camera off, and the Wayne family refused to answer another question on the matter.

Footage of the interview was so thoroughly wiped from the internet that’s it’s hard to say if it even happened. It’s now little more than a conspiracy theory.

-

Jason was laughing himself stupid at the memory.

“Jason, that’s horrible!” Duke was mortified.

“Can we go back to the fact that Tim thought it was a good idea to say that our supposedly dead brother haunted us and it was no big deal? We never discussed that. Why did you say that?” Dick wheezed between laughs.

“It seemed like a smart move at the time! At least I didn’t try to play it off like I didn’t know who Jason was!”

“Yeah that one really hurt, Dickiebird.” Jason clutched his chest in mock agony.

“What about you, Damian? It couldn’t have been worse than that! Right?” Duke really hoped it couldn’t have been.

“Tt. You think I would lose control of a situation that badly? Of course my interview went perf-”

“He dropped an f-bomb like fifteen seconds in.”

“He tried to punch Tim, Dick had to hold both of them back, Tim struggled so hard that he broke the pretty vase that was on the coffee table in front of us.”

“Right, and Damian laughed so hard that he fell off the couch and into the pile of broken glass, stood up bleeding, and sat back down saying that he’d been through worse.”

“He asked the media crew if any of them had a sword, and he was surprised when everyone said no!”

“He managed to call the reporter out for hitting on Bruce, and call Dick out for hitting on the reporter in the same sentence.”

Duke hung his head down between his knees, trying to process all of this.

“I wouldn’t worry, Master Duke. You’re a right bit more mature than everyone else in this room put together, so I don’t expect your first interview to pose much of an issue.” Alfred had walked over to pat the young man on the back reassuringly.

-

A week later, Duke was tugging uncomfortably at the sleeves of his suit jacket in the back of a limo with Bruce and Dick next to him. Tim and Damian were deemed incapable of doing interviews, Cass and Steph didn’t want to, and Jason was ‘dead’ so the three of them would have to do.

Duke was a little nervous, but he was confident that his interview couldn’t be bad enough to require being wiped from the entire internet.

What could go wrong anyways?

They stepped into the studio and a timid looking reporter approached them.

Bruce tensed, almost imperceptibly.

Dick looked like he was holding in laughter.

Duke was confused. The reporter seemed mildly familiar… but he couldn’t put his finger on where they could have met before.

He approached Bruce and extended a limp hand to shake.

“Hello, my name is Clark Kent. I’ll be interviewing you three today. It’s just lovely to meet you Mr. Wayne.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you laughed along with me while reading this, love y'all! Leave a comment! (and please don't repost my work anywhere)


End file.
